


Marmalade Sky

by glasgow_blue



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Gen, LOTRPS - Freeform, M/M, Monaboyd, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 01:15:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3876817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glasgow_blue/pseuds/glasgow_blue





	Marmalade Sky

For [](http://traveller.livejournal.com/profile)[**traveller**](http://traveller.livejournal.com/). _dom, billy, orange, mobile phone_

[400 words v 1.5]

On Tuesday morning, the postman delivers a crate of mangoes and the smell of the tropics does battle with the leaden Glasgow sky. Billy knows there is a forest of them in Bangalore with Dom's name on it and doesn't think much beyond that. He briefly considers making chutney before they spoil, but decides that venture is better left to the experts.

Wednesday, it's a box of woolens. A knit cap, socks, a muffler, and a jumper. All look to be hand-made and all are orange in one way or another, be it stripes, checks or solid. Billy looks at the calendar, sees it's close to St. Patrick's Day, and wonders if this is some sort of comment on the politics of Irish Nationalism. He slices a mango, sniffs the delicate peachy flesh, and eats it between sips of coffee.

Thursday, he takes the train to Cowcaddens and sees the color everywhere. Traffic cones. A girl in tangerine tights. Two VW Beetles the precise shade of Florida’s finest. Fire plugs. The door to a sweets shop painted to match the lollipops inside. Billy smiles and asks the sky how Dom could manage to convince an entire city to join in on the joke, whatever it may be.

Friday, Dougal (for they are on a first-name basis now) leaves a pair of pumpkin colored suede Adidas and a matching t-shirt with the number 67 on it. Billy puts them on and eats another mango with his morning Wheatabix.

Saturday, he is walking up Queen Street on his way to lunch and sees a magazine sporting the promise of "Fresh Fruit Facials". Four hours later, he's sitting on his couch thumbing it through with a mango and honey mash slathered all over his face. When his mobile beeps with a text message, he knows it's from Dom.

_I have painted my bedroom persimmon._

Before Billy can answer, another comes through.

_You should do so as well. I shall help._

He laughs and keys back only three words.

_The fuck, Dominic?_

The doorbell rings just then and of course it is Dom in the hall. Still, Billy is unprepared for the garish vision of apricot and coral that greets him.

"You look like a pimp," he says.

Dom nods solemnly, then snakes out a finger and swipes it across Billy’s jaw. He sticks it in his mouth, grinning.

"You got the mangoes, then."  



End file.
